Things to do in the water other than "just swim laps"

Along the lines of combining Martin Short ("I'm not that strong a swimmer") and sharks-and-minnows, I am wondering if any of you ever made up your own pool rules for the latter? My twin brother and I, at age 13, were scrawny weaklings (as opposed to now, when we are fatted weaklings). We could, however, hold our breaths with the kind of rapaciousness usually only seen in anaerobic bacteria. The head life guard was this lacrosse-playing college-aged muscle-bound bully. Despite his cut qualities, the guy was easily winded, perhaps a side effect of steroid abuse and his penchant for bluster. Anyhow, my brother (who would later go on to invent the legendary "John ball" at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, but that's another story) and I managed to inaugurate a new rule during the seemingly endless sharks-and-minnow games of the summer of 1966. We proposed--and a majority of players, mainly other runts with a natural minnow phenotype like us, agreed--that the drain at the bottom of the deep end should hereafter and for evermore be "base." As long as a minnow was perched thereupon, the sharks were forbidden to strike. At the first sound of "minnows in the water," my brother and I would dive off the side, swim straight to the bottom, grab onto the metal grid that covered the drain, and wait patiently until our tormentor ran out of air and darted up for a refill, at which point we'd shove off and complete the minnow swim to safety. Eventually the lifeguard tried to trick us by feigning ascent, then immediately turning around to try to grab us. But weaklings are not without craftiness and a suspicious nature, especially when they've trained themselves to not need air, and stoked their resolve by the enmity of the comely cheerleader ranks, who always squirmed girlishly on chaise longes, exhorting their square-jawed muscular hero to make quick work of us. He never could! Sometime, just to taunt him, my brother and I would stay down by the drain, let him go up for an air refill, then continue to wait him out till he needed to ascent yet again! The *** never caught us, I am proud to say! There were games that summer called for darkness! And that's another thing that's fun to do at pools, make up rules that allow the meek to inherit the earth.

Along the lines of combining Martin Short ("I'm not that strong a swimmer") and sharks-and-minnows, I am wondering if any of you ever made up your own pool rules for the latter? My twin brother and I, at age 13, were scrawny weaklings (as opposed to now, when we are fatted weaklings). We could, however, hold our breaths with the kind of rapaciousness usually only seen in anaerobic bacteria. The head life guard was this lacrosse-playing college-aged muscle-bound bully. Despite his cut qualities, the guy was easily winded, perhaps a side effect of steroid abuse and his penchant for bluster. Anyhow, my brother (who would later go on to invent the legendary "John ball" at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, but that's another story) and I managed to inaugurate a new rule during the seemingly endless sharks-and-minnow games of the summer of 1966. We proposed--and a majority of players, mainly other runts with a natural minnow phenotype like us, agreed--that the drain at the bottom of the deep end should hereafter and for evermore be "base." As long as a minnow was perched thereupon, the sharks were forbidden to strike. At the first sound of "minnows in the water," my brother and I would dive off the side, swim straight to the bottom, grab onto the metal grid that covered the drain, and wait patiently until our tormentor ran out of air and darted up for a refill, at which point we'd shove off and complete the minnow swim to safety. Eventually the lifeguard tried to trick us by feigning ascent, then immediately turning around to try to grab us. But weaklings are not without craftiness and a suspicious nature, especially when they've trained themselves to not need air, and stoked their resolve by the enmity of the comely cheerleader ranks, who always squirmed girlishly on chaise longes, exhorting their square-jawed muscular hero to make quick work of us. He never could! Sometime, just to taunt him, my brother and I would stay down by the drain, let him go up for an air refill, then continue to wait him out till he needed to ascent yet again! The *** never caught us, I am proud to say! There were games that summer called for darkness! And that's another thing that's fun to do at pools, make up rules that allow the meek to inherit the earth.